


Implied Rewards

by Atroposisms



Category: Persona 5
Genre: BDSM, Breathplay, Chastity Device, Denial, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Edging, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Reader-Insert, Sex Toys, Smut, Teasing, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 19:27:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14700651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atroposisms/pseuds/Atroposisms
Summary: Even in bed, he likes to play games.





	Implied Rewards

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ActuallyAndroid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyAndroid/gifts).



> Happy birthday bby <3
> 
> Tumblr @ atroposisms

“Do good girls cum?” His voice is deceptively soft, quiet, and you can hear a thread of patronizing affection in his question. It’s almost disgusting how much you like it when he talks to you like this.

You shake your head. “No.”

“And what did you do?” Akira cups the side of your face, thumb stroking your cheek, and you know that he sees you shudder at his touch.

“I came.” Your eyes slide away from his face, not wanting to see disappointment, and you squirm underneath him. “Without your permission.”

The hand slides down to your throat, fingers curling into a sweet caress, and the crook of his thumb presses down gently against your airway. That, too, makes you shiver, and you bite down on your tongue to stop a moan. “Look at me.”

And you do, meeting his gaze.

There’s no raised voices with him, only his expectation of obedience without hesitation. The pressure against your throat increases, enough to make your breath whistle as you try to breathe, and Akira smirks at the haziness in your eyes. Light glints dimly off his glasses, lending him a rather sinister air. He could hurt you terribly right now - you both know this - but he wouldn’t. His breath catches in his throat, and he feels your pulse jump beneath his fingers.

“As for your punishment, I think three weeks in the belt will work.”

If you didn’t have the self control to not play with yourself, he’d simply take away your ability to do so.

When you try to protest, the smirk widens, and he squeezes even harder. Akira wavers above you as darkness flickers at the edges of your vision, as you arch your hips upwards, needing him to touch you.

“Maybe at the end of it I’ll even let you cum,” he purrs.

* * *

Being denied the thing that you wanted was….well, it was an exquisite torture.

By the third day you struggle to keep your mind off anything other than Akira fucking you. On the fifth day, you were desperate to be touched - anything to ease the ache in your dripping cunt. And by the end of the first week, you fought to not throw yourself at Akira’s feet and beg for pity.

But you did cave, grabbing hold of his shirt, pressing yourself against him. The pleas came easily to you, voice pitched high with need and hope that he would give in.

He didn’t.

Instead, he adds another week to your punishment.

* * *

Akira places the desk chair in front of your bed and sits, leaning forwards on his arms to watch you. He hasn’t wiped that damned smirk off his face since he’s entered the room.

Guilty, you turn the wand off, excuses at the ready to fall from your lips.

“Oh, no, don’t stop on my behalf.” He scoots a little closer, and you find yourself crawling backwards on the bed. “I’d like to watch the show.”  There’s no anger, only cruel amusement: to watch you engage in a futile struggle - wanting freedom but never achieving it - is the best entertainment to him.

You nod, and lean back against the pillows behind you, turning on the wand, pressing it against the steel covering your pussy. The vibrations spread, and you press the rubber head even harder against you as you squeeze your thighs together. It was useless - the vibrations only make things worse. All you want is some friction, some contact against your clit -

Akira sits at the edge of his seat, staring intently. “Don’t be shy, spread your legs for me...good girl.” He sounds  _ so _ pleased, and the praise is a terrible drug that curls through your blood.

Your head lolls back, and the only sounds you make are of frustration.

* * *

Bouquets of flowers are littered throughout your apartment, and you smile as you read the little notes, covered in his slanted handwriting, attached to them. His time working at a flower shop has certainly been put to good use. The arrangements near the front door start small, becoming more extravagant as you navigate your way to your bedroom.

You find him adjusting the last one on your desk when you walk in.

He looks over his shoulder at you, and grins. “You’re home early.”

“We weren’t busy, so the manager said I could take off if I wanted to. Birthday girl privileges.” You examine the arrangement on your desk, and Akira wraps his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair. This bouquet doesn’t have a note. Instead, there’s a small envelope, and when you open it, a small key falls out. It clatters onto the desktop, and you pick it up with a shaking hand.

You swallow loudly. “It hasn’t been a month yet.”

Akira smiles, kisses the top of your head. “Birthday girl privileges.”

* * *

His hands are around your neck and he’s kissing you, unable to get enough of your little whimpers. Squeezes a bit more, enough to make you gasp, your hands fluttering to his wrists. You’re torn between wanting him to tighten his grip and plucking his hands away, before finally settling on him pressing down harder.

You’re dripping wet, and all without him even needing to touch your cunt.

“Do you want to cum?” He whispers, voice harsh in your ear, releasing his hold on you.

Immediately, you suck in deep breaths, chest heaving, and the world comes flooding back into sharp relief.

It’s a script the two of you have gone over before, and you know how he wants you to respond.

“No, I don’t,” you say, barely managing to get the words out.

A hand glides down your body, digging between your thighs to spread the lips of your pussy with two fingers. “Really? When you’re this wet? I don’t believe you.” You feel his mouth against the side of your neck, the graze of his tongue. Slowly, he slides a finger inside you, then a second.

“I-I don’t want to cum.”

His fingers curl gently, the thrusts shallow.

“Convince me.”

A little faster -  _ deeper _ \- now, and you can’t hold back your moans.

“I’m a good girl, I don’t want...fuck!” The heel of his palm grinds against your clit, and the faint hint of a smirk hovers on his face. “I want to be your good girl, I don’t want to cum, please don’t...” Your hands clutch at the bed spread. “Don’t let me cum, Akira, please.”

“As you wish.” And his hand slows, there’s no pressure against your clit, and the loss rapidly pulls you from the brink. But he doesn’t stop. 

So it went: the leisurely tease as he brought you to the edge, where you would beg for him to not let you cum, to stop, to slow down because you didn’t want it - didn’t need it - not unless he allowed it. 

When he finally stops you’re ready to cry, once again so close to cumming, but having it ripped away from you at the last moment. Akira kisses you once before settling himself between your legs, wrapping them about his waist. 

“Such a good girl,” he says, and barely gives you a moment to gather yourself before he sinks into you with one smooth movement. God, you’ve missed this - how good it feels to be stretched and filled, to have his cock inside of you. “I think you’ve earned a reward.”

Your moans are choked with barely held back tears, ‘thank you’s tangled up within them. You want to cum - of course you do - you want to cum so badly after having gone without for almost an entire month. Even though he’s given you permission, he’s taking his time, enjoying the way you look beneath him - flushed and disheveled - and he’s in no hurry at all to end the game. 

“Akira, faster, please.” Desperation lays thick and heavy in your voice, and he smiles smugly at you. “Please, I need you to fuck me hard, I -”

He stops for just a moment to take your hands, lacing his fingers with yours and pinning you to your bed, before he obliges. His own breathing is ragged, moaning quietly, feeling how wet and hot you are around him. He’s missed this too.

Everything collapses down to Akira on top of you, his gaze dark and calculating, the smell of his cologne, the comfortable weight of his body. The sharp rise of pleasure is almost painful as he fucks you, bottoming out with each thrust.

Your nails dig into the back of his hands, and you find yourself struggling to breathe, your blood thrumming loudly in your ears. You’re close, you’re  _ so  _ close, and he’s slowed down a little bit, but he’s rubbing your clit now and - 

“Akira -”

Every sensation peaks, then immediately drops away as Akira pulls out of you, and simply  _ stops. _

A startled cry is ripped from you as you try to reach down to continue rubbing your clit - you could  _ feel  _ yourself start to cum. Without a word, Akira grabs hold of your wrists, pinning them to your sides as you twist on the bed. 

“Oh god, Akira…”

You don’t understand what’s happening, don’t understand why you feel so empty, why it’s so painful. Your entire body is shaking, and you can’t gather your thoughts together long enough to string together a sentence. You were there, had started to fall over the edge of the precipice...now you just felt empty.

Still consumed by the sensations of the loss, it takes you a moment to realize that Akira’s thrusting inside of you again. But even that’s over all too soon before any sort of pleasure can take hold, and he moans your name on a breath, cumming inside of you. 

Akira leans down to give you a quick kiss, and you feel him smile against your cheek when you turn your face away from him. 

“I never said I’d let you cum.”


End file.
